It had been a few days, or maybe it was weeks since I had last taken any medication. I was about to take it, when I saw this girl I recognised at the bus stop, from school. She had short hair and her name was Robin. I used to think she was cool until I started reading her thoughts. Turns out murder wasn't the only horrible thing some of the students around me were up to. The voice from her mind came to me fast and overwhelmed me. I sat down next to her and she didn't even notice me. The chattering began from her head quickly:They say money is the root of all evil. To me, it just makes me sick. In fact, the sight and smell of it actually makes me want to throw up. I think I am really allergic. I can't stand all kinds of money, even coins annoy me.I used to think I was lucky living in the era of digital transfers. Everyone is obsessed with money, but they never see it, they are constantly paying for everything without seeing a single note. I used to be hap

 Back at school, at least I thought I was at school, I noticed that kid that everyone was talking about. He was tall, cool and I heard he was good at everything. The teachers loved him and so did most of the girls. I watched him and saw a sadness in his eyes. Then his voice came to me:Everyone thinks I have it easy. They see me pass by and want to be me. I couldn’t blame them before I used to know why; I was perfect, at least everyone else thought so. Perfect hair, a perfect row of white teeth. Tall, fairly healthy and fit. My hair always seemed to be the envy of every kid in the school, both boys and girls. I was also the captain of the football team and we were on a twelve-game winning streak. Everyone on the team basically worshiped me and even the coach had this weird fascination with me. He’d message me on the phone and follow me around school like he was one of my friends. 

 Now, I knew about peer pressure at school, but the next voice that entered my head took it to another level. The things his friends did to him made me take action, finally. I was hooked on his thoughts because of my interest in Kung-fu. But that wasn't Kung-fu at all, that was just violence. His voice spoke to me and said:Everyone at school thought the Kung-fu Gang was a complete joke. Kids usually laughed as they walked past with their matching white headbands on. There were Chinese characters written on the middle of their headbands, I knew what they meant: Kung-fu! I thought they were so cool, but no one else did. The other kids often called them “Kung-fu Freaks” when they weren’t around. Theywere always together, and it seemed that whenever they passed me that they were walking in slow motion.The five-member gang didn’t care about popularity. They were way too focused to let anything that unimpor

After that, I became clearer and focused. The consequences were really bad but there was no stopping me. I couldn't go on hearing those voices so I had to do something about it. I had to punish them all. They were all sick, crazy, or just plain evil so they needed to stop, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was special and was given this gift for a reason. I had to get myself together first, prove to Mum I could go back to school, and not freak out. I started eating better again and I even exercised in the mornings. I did sit-ups and push-ups, right outside Mum's bedroom, so she could hear of course. After a few weeks, I was improving and on my way to starting my grand plan. Mum even told me, 'Wow, you are looking much healthier, I'm so proud of you for taking care of yourself!'I just nodded and continued my self-improvement act, just to get permission back to school. Later she told me, 'Now, we can't have something like that happeni